Thursday, April 25, 2013

Yes, I am an addict. I read till my eyeballs scream, but ignore their protests and continue to read with my fingertips, anything to finish a good book.

So why do I allow some authors to abuse my precious time, my precious body and my pocketbook by posting books with BAD (really, really BAD) punctuation and horrible (OMG!) spelling? And why oh, why do these folks make it to the best seller lists?

I am stumped. Stupified. Flummoxed.

I am outraged at their sloppiness and disregard for my reading experience, which by all means should focus on their story NOT their hideous lack of professionalism! (And their rush to collect my money in their bank account for what is a sloppy product!)

Last week, I bought a book on the NYT list by an indie author. (Really, she is a HYBRID author who has been pubbed by a traditional publisher. Therefore, her punctuation and spelling “feet” have been held to the proverbial fire and she should know better than to do this to her readers.) I was curious as to the reason for her success. (Topic? Plot? Unique conflict? What, what?) I had to know!

Dear Reader, I read this book, and cursed each page, sometimes 10 or more lines per page for the hideous punctuation and spelling! No, it was not that she failed to provide proper formatting for her indie book. She did not understand the use of any of the following:

comma

ellipses

M dash (and lack thereof)

N dash

Quotation marks (Please, shoot me.)

Scene breaks

Why did I endure this to THE END?

After 20 or so pages of this insult, l should have stopped. Shouldn’t I? I should have said, no more, you are killing me softly. I should have thrown it across the room (or deleted it from iPad) and asked why I take my precious time to turn in perfectly spelled and punctuated pieces (even those I have self-pubbed) and I read this???

But I will never do so again.

Why?

My iPad, darling creature, has so much on it that is luscious, transportive reading. Courtesy of all those wonderful authors, many of them good friends of mine, I have wonderful hours awaiting me. Furthermore, because pricing in the industry is so competitive lately, many of them were discounted. Most were not. But I bought each on that wonderful literate whim that comes to us when we see a novel we MUST read. I have stored many for that rainy day when my soul needs to be fed with divine tales that I have neither the time nor the proclivity to create myself.

So this author is no longer on my iPad. Her works—and I had 2 more of them on there—I eliminated.

I called up my best friend and screamed about the audacity to insult me as a consumer, a reader and an author!

I have written of my outrage here.

I feel better.

And the next time, I see this in a book, I hope to god I have the intelligence to end my torture sooner. And may you too end it so that somewhere in the universe, authors who don't learn or don't take time to do it right, hie themselves off to a place we cannot find their works for sale...anywhere.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

My mother
was a strong, stubborn woman who fought like a tigress for her cubs. And thank
God.

When they
oh-so-politely explained that her daughter was far too stupid to learn to read,
much less write, she refused to believe them. And she refused to let me believe them. She dared me to prove
them wrong.

I did.

That
probably accounts for the fact that even now, at the advanced age of oh-I-don’t-know-let’s-just-say-twenty-five,
I still have the inclination to think “they” are full of $h!t.

Not only did
I learn to read (and learn to LOVE reading), I learned to write. And because
they told me I couldn’t, I became obsessed with writing well. I dedicated
myself to winning every writing award
I could get my grubby paws on just to prove them wrong.

And because
they told me I would never get published, I did that. It took me decades (I
started when I was five, right?) but I did it.

Since then I’ve
released nearly a dozen titles and have many more in the wings and, I am
delighted to report, fans all over the world.

Who knew?

I’m about to
undertake another daunting feat—one that has me nibbling my fingernails to the
nub.

I am
releasing my first self-pubbed book.

There were a
lot of reasons for trying this—not the least of which is the ability to offer a
book for free once in a while to THANK MY READERS for their loyalty. But to be
perfectly honest, I just want to prove to myself that I can.

Yet another
grand adventure for a girl who always dreamed of being a writer but was told
she was far too dyslexic to try.

There are
always people willing to tell you reasons you shouldn’t take a dare.

It’s a good
thing I never listen.

Rebound is Book One
of the Tryst Island Series—following the romantic adventures of a group of
friends sharing a vacation house on the fictional Trystacomseh Island in Washington State’s San
Juan archipelago. The
series was inspired by my visits to a family cabin on the coast. I’ll share a
picture of the view, so you get an idea why I couldn’t stop myself from writing
these stories.

Sigh. I
know. Right?

Here’s a
taste of Rebound. It’s scheduled to come out April 4th on Amazon. I
hope you check it out.

Rebound by Sabrina York

A Tryst Island Erotic Romance

Kristi Cross has had the hots for her friend,
Cameron Jackson as long as she can remember, but she knows she’s not his type.
She’s nothing like the women he dates. So when he suggests they play
for a kiss over a game of Hearts, Kristi can’t resist. Even if she loses, she
wins. Because she’s finally going to taste
him.

Of course, one kiss can quickly become
something altogether steamier, especially when both parties are on the rebound…

An Excerpt of Rebound

Cam nodded and dealt the cards. They were
halfway through the first hand when he broke the silence.

His chortle rumbled through her. “You figured
out my strategy.” He shot her a saucy leer. “You sure you don’t want another
beer?”

“No way. I’m winning this game, buster.”

They played for a while longer before he
spoke again. This time, his words sent a scalding sizzle through her solar
plexus. “You know Kristi, I can’t remember a time when we were both…single.”

Her heart seized. “What?” Thank God she hadn’t just taken a sip of beer—she would have
spewed it across the table for sure.

“Think about it. Since the day we met, one of
us was always in a relationship.”

Usually him.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t know what to
say.

He winced as he took a trick. “I just think
it’s interesting. That’s all.”

“What’s… interesting?” It took everything in
her not to mangle her cards.

“You know. That we’re both available. Both
here. Alone.”

Under the weight of his steamy gaze, all
uncertainty wafted away. That was definitely interest simmering in those steely
blue orbs.

Kristi’s pulse went into rapid-fire mode. Her
breath hitched. Heat lashed through her.

“I…ah… W-what’s your p-point?” She tried to
act all blasé, but the stuttering probably ruined it.

His expression shifted, darkened. The
smoldering, seductive mien made her belly flutter. “I was thinking we could play…for
something.”

“S-something?”

“A kiss, maybe?”

Brain freeze.

Every thought fled. Every cogent inkling spun
out of reach. She could only feel. Stare at him in shock. Ache for him.

His tongue came out, dabbing at his lips. She
fixated on it, imagining that tongue, what it could do. The havoc it could
cause on various parts of her trembling body—

“A kiss?” A squeak. “We’ve never k-kissed
before.”

He leaned closer. His voice dropped an
octave. “I’m aware of that.”

“But-but… I thought… We’re just f-friends.”

He studied her over his cards, stroking them
slowly. “Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me?”

“I… No! I just… We’ve always… It’s probably…”

Amusement—twined with certainty—lightened his
intensity. “What are you trying to say, Kristi?”

She meticulously rearranged her cards. “I
just… I didn’t think you found me attractive. That’s all.”

He boggled. “Are you crazy? You’re stunning.”

A little thrill flickered up her spine. “I’m
not.” She ignored his frown at that, and plowed on with her reasoning. “Besides,
in all these years, none of us… well, none of us have.”

“Lane and Lucy did.”

“And look how well that worked out.”

“I’m suggesting a kiss, Kristi. Just a kiss.”
He stroked his lips. “Be honest. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be
like between us?”

A hot tide crawled up her cheeks. He didn’t
miss it. He couldn’t. Her cheeks were neon red. Like a well-cooked lobster.

His features tightened. A muscle ticked in
his cheek. “You have. Haven’t you? Imagined it?” The hint, the thread of
uncertainty in the words struck her to the core.

He was uncertain? He was nervous? Holy Hannah.

“I…” She plucked at the label again. It was
becoming quite shredded. “Maybe.” A whisper.

“Well. So have I. Often.”

She gaped at him. “Often?”

“Very often.”

“But…” She swallowed the words clogging her
throat.

“But what?”

“I… Robyn was perfect.”

“She was.” Her belly dipped at that. “But
when she smiled, she didn’t smile with her whole face. Not the way you do. She
didn’t embrace life. She just kind of clung to the edges. You toss yourself in.”
He fondled the neck of his bottle. “It’s an attractive quality, Kris. A man can’t
help wondering…”

“Wondering what?”

“If you make love that way too.”

Ooh. Those words skimmed over the air between
them, smooth and silky and oh so beguiling.

Not that he needed to seduce her.

Hell, all he had to do was breathe and she wanted him. Still…

“Are you drunk?”

He grinned. “Not in the slightest.”

“This is probably a bad idea.”

His grin broadened.

“Cam, we’re both on the rebound.”

He shifted, as though something was making
his position uncomfortable. “Sometimes you score the winning point off a
rebound.”

“A basketball analogy? Really?” He knew she
was a football fan.

“If the shoe fits.” He reached across the
table and took her hand in his. His heat enveloped her, sank in and made her
want to weep. She could only imagine how good he would feel touching her all over. Pressing her into a downy
mattress. Entering her in a hard, hot thrust…

Lordy. She could imagine it. So well, her
body was already preparing for it. A slick dampness eased between her thighs.
Her nipples pebbled. Her womb clenched in hunger.

“What would the others think?”

“Why would we tell them?” His expression was
far too innocent. “It’s only a kiss.”

“One kiss?”

“One kiss. A forfeit. If you win the game, I
kiss you. If I win, you kiss me.”

She glanced at his lips. Strong. Powerful.
Perfectly formed. She’d wanted to feel them, taste them, have them since the day they’d met. Why was she dithering? What was
she afraid of?

Well, other than heartbreak.

But she’d long ago learned that heartbreak
could come whether you were careful or reckless.

Might as well be reckless.

She would rather enjoy a decadent sliver of fudgy
brownie than suffer through a lifetime of rice cakes.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

He stared at her. The tension between them
mounted, hummed. His Adam’s apple made the slow journey up and back down his
throat. Then he picked up the cards, shuffled once and quickly dealt out a new
hand.

I buy all the sparkly tiaras I can get my hands on, but my
tiara closet is getting cluttered, so I have to give one away. (Or more. Who
knows. I’m all capricious like that.)

Sometime in April I will be giving away my Anniversary
Tiara. Can’t say when, because I haven’t decided yet, so you should probably
enter today.

To enter, just sign up for the Royal Hotsheet (Sabrina’s
Newsletter). Newsletter subscribers are eligible to win all coming contests as
well as random giveaways. Because, have I mentioned? Tiara closet? Cluttered?

Send an email with "Enter Me" in the subject line
(this is erotica, after all) to sabrina@sabrinayork.com.
If you want to win a copy of Man Hungry, mention that in the body of the email!

The drawing will be completely random. I made it a point to
have the one person on the planet who ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT CARE WHO WINS draw
the winner.

That is, after all, what teenage sons are for.

Remember, only one entry per person, but if you refer your
friends you will earn bonus entries.

Refer Your Friends Bonus Entries Tell your friends about Sabrina York, Her Royal Hotness. If they sign up
for Sabrina's Hotsheet you earn another entry, plus a chance at a Referrals
Only drawing for more bling. (NOTE: They must tell me
that you referred them in the message box so I can give you credit).

Good luck!!!

About Sabrina York

Sabrina is an award winning author of erotic romance
with nearly a dozen
titles
available, ranging from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic
horror. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york or Facebook.